By the Book
by carpetinflight
Summary: When she meets a mysterious cute guy in the library, Dawn Summers doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. SPN Xover, DawnXSam


For a big, old library, this one sucks. It has hardly any decent books on demons or spellcasting or paranormal activity, and the local history is so sanitized that it's almost meaningless. Dawn has been in the building for four hours and found exactly one book that could be of any help at all.

Which is why the minute she sits down with it, someone walks up to her table and asks to borrow it.

"No," she snaps.

Then she looks up. Into the face of an incredibly cute guy. That never happens to her. "Wait, what?"

"Can I borrow that?" he asks again, smiling like he knows he's cute, all teeth and dimples and floppy hair. He's tall, really tall, and Dawn has to crane her neck to see him.

"_Native Predator Myths of the American Northwest_?" she asks. Why the heck would anyone need this book unless they were researching demons? Besides, there's a demon out there that she needs to find. And preferably today, because the regular old 'stick a knife in it' isn't working, and it's gonna get hungry again soon.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as if he's trying to look as attractive as possible. Which is working. A lot. "I need it for this paper I'm writing, and…"

She snaps her fingers as if she's just recognized him. "Oh yeah," she lies. "I think you're in my class."

He looks surprised for a split second, but nods agreeably. "It's tough," he says. "I should've gone for geology." She laughs. "I really need to get a good grade on this paper if I'm gonna pass this class," he says, and she has to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"How about this?" she asks. "I'll bring it over to you when I'm done." She has no intention of doing that, but whatever. He'll deal. Actual demons eating people are way more important than some paper.

"Yeah, okay, I guess," he says, then motions toward the shelves holding the completely useless mythology books. "I uh, wanted to look up some other stuff anyway."

He turns and goes into the stacks, and Dawn sticks the book into her bag and walks out of the library as quickly as she can, hoping the place doesn't have some kind of high-tech security system. They don't, thank God, and she's halfway across the library parking lot before the cute guy catches up with her.

"Hey!" She turns around and there he is, jogging across the asphalt toward her. He really is very cute. It almost makes her feel guilty for lying to him, but not really. "Did you just-- I really need to see that book."

Dawn fights the urge to clutch the book to her chest. "Look, I know you do, but so do I." What is she, in kindergarten? "Look, I'm sure your paper is important and all but I really need this and it's not just--" She stops herself. What is she going to say? _Forget about your grade, this is a matter of life and death_? Well, yeah, but it's not like he'd believe her.

"This is a matter of life and death," he says. She blinks. "If I don't pass this class, my dad will kill me." He laughs a little, with his mouth twisted like it's not really funny. Dawn wonders if her dad even knows about her grades. Which are stellar. But no, he probably doesn't. 

She looks up at him and lets her mind shape a little question mark. _What if…?_ And hey, this demon only ever kills people at night. She can take a break now and still have plenty of time until sunset. It can't hurt to take a little break with a cute boy, and it is a matter of life and death, after all.

There's a Starbucks at the end of the block, round green sign glowing like some kind of omen. And she thinks maybe, if she gets him to sit down, they'll actually be at eye level and she can stare at him a little bit while he reads. "Maybe we can compromise," she says, smiling. "I'll let you look at it for the price of a latte." That's a good deal, even if she can't convince him to buy the coffee.

He does buy the coffee, though, and Dawn totally cheats and gets a venti frappuccino and a cookie with M&Ms in it. "I'm Dawn," she says, holding out her hand to shake.

"Sam," he answers, shaking her hand and reaching for the book before she's really ready to pass it over. She smiles up at him in a way that's worked before -- repeatedly -- but he's oblivious. As soon as he has the book in his hand, he's right in research mode, with this expression on his face that's so Giles-y it's scary, especially on such a cute guy.

And just like Giles does when he's concentrating, Sam mutters under his breath a little bit while he reads. It's cute, and Dawn is smiling into her coffee as she sits there, wondering if he even knows he's doing it and why she has to meet a cute, normal guy like this when she's hunting a demon in the middle of freaking Idaho, instead of when she's playing the mild-mannered reporter and college student for the other ten months of the year. Most guys are not interested in a girl who kills monsters. Sad but true.

Dawn is so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost misses Sam's mutterings. "Lives in the forest," he's saying, and "nests in holes," scribbling everything down in a battered leather journal that's bursting at the seams and is not student-like at all. This is all normal stuff, and so she almost tunes out his words and concentrates on the M&Ms in her cookie. Almost.

"Cannot be killed by sword of steel nor iron," Sam mutters, and Dawn freezes with a blue M&M halfway to her mouth. A college guy who just wants to write his paper and pass his class, interested in how to kill a completely mythical animal? Unlikely. And in Dawn's experience, if something seems weird, it probably is. She looks intently at her frappuccino so that in a moment, when Sam looks up guiltily, he does not see her watching. Between her lashes, she peers at his journal, and she sees that his notes are definitely not of the student kind. _salt?_ he has written. _w__ood crossbow?_

_Great,_ Dawn thinks. _What kind of weirdo is this guy? And who on earth would pick up a cute demon hunter in the library?_

Sam scribbles something else, and upside-down through her eyelashes, Dawn thinks it might say _silver bullets_. And then it hits her. _Buffy_. Buffy is the one other person who would meet a cute guy in a library and have him turn out to be a demon hunter. _Great, I'm turning into my sister._ She groans and takes a long drink of her frappuccino to drown her sorrows.

When she's done, she looks up and finds Sam watching her. "Something wrong?" he asks, charming smile perfectly in place.

"Just-- my sister," Dawn says, deciding on the spur of the moment to be honest with him. "She's a huge pain in the neck, and she's waiting for me."

Sam's perfect charming smile slips into a crooked, amused grin, and she just has to smile back.

"Older or younger?" he asks.

"Older," she answers, rolling her eyes.

"I know how that is," he says, and for a moment they're united, downtrodden and unappreciated baby siblings. But it's just a moment, and then it's gone.

"She's a pain, but--"

"But you've gotta get going, I know," Sam says. "I think I'm done with this anyway." He flips the book shut and hands it to Dawn across the table. "Thanks for letting me look at it."

Their hands brush as she takes the book from him, and his skin is dry and warm. It feels nice, and the heat lingers on her hand as she leans over and slips the book back into her bag. "Thanks for the coffee," she says.

They're standing and moving toward the door, and he says, "Anytime," and Dawn feels a flash of wanting that almost hurts. She knows it's stupid, because there is no class, no paper, no cranky professor, at least not for her, and she's pretty sure not for this tall guy who knows too much about predator myths and crossbows and silver bullets, but she says it anyway.

"We should do this again sometime, after class."

"Yeah," he says, and he gives her that twisted not-really-a-smile. "That'd be great."

----------

When she gets back to the motel room, Buffy's in the shower, so she lays down on the bed and flips open the library book while she waits. Just as she suspected, the only "mythical" creature in the book that could possibly be the one they're looking for is the same one Sam was reading about.

Dawn tucks a strand of hair behind one ear and gets completely engrossed in the book. A drop of water falls on her shoulder, which is protected only by a thin and very cute t-shirt, and she jumps a little.

"We need to put a bell on you," she tells her sister, standing next to her in a towel.

"Slaying would be more of a challenge," Buffy allows. "So, is this our guy?" She leans over Dawn's shoulder and points at the old-fashioned etching, her hair dripping on the page.

"Hey, watch it. This is a library book."

"You checked it out?"

"Not as such, but--"

"Dawnie--"

"I'll bring it back! We needed it."

Buffy gives her a warning look, but moves her hair out of the way so it's not dripping on the book anymore.

"Um." Dawn looks up at her sister and thinks about telling her about the tall, cute, library-dwelling demon hunter.

"What?" Buffy asks.

"I think a stake will do it," Dawn tells her, saying nothing about Sam.

----------

As the sun sets, they park their little rental car at the state park and start hiking toward the creature's lair. Buffy is carrying a couple of stakes but Dawn has given up on subtlety and is carrying a crossbow. It's heavy and it makes her wonder about Sam, whether he really knows how to use one, or if he decided to go with a gun and silver bullets instead. She thinks of Tara and shivers.

It's the middle of summer, of course, because otherwise Dawn would be at school and Buffy would be out terrorizing newbies. What kind of freaky, messed-up family thinks killing things that go bump in the night is a wholesome bonding activity? And why can't they do it when the weather is decent?

"Hey, remember that time Mom killed a vampire at back-to-school night?" she asks Buffy, feeling a little sad and wistful at the thought.

"How could I forget?" Buffy asks.

They're quiet then, each occupied with their own thoughts, as they walk through the woods. Buffy's in the lead, and they're heading for the spot where the last hiker disappeared. Dawn carries a bag over one shoulder that contains supplies for a locator spell; once she's found the demon, Buffy will go kill it. As plans go, it's not the best, but they've worked with less.

The path reaches a small clearing with a couple of picnic tables and a hosepipe, and the stop. Without discussion, Dawn clears a patch of ground and sits down to perform the spell, setting her crossbow aside. Buffy paces the perimeter of the clearing, glancing back and forth between Dawn and the woods around them. The sky above the trees is a pale purple, not yet dark. It's too early for the creature to be out -- probably -- but Dawn feels a little nervous anyway.

This is a pretty simple spell, one that comes in handy to locate demons and baddies of all kinds. If she was a regular watcher year-round, Dawn would use it all the time, and know it backwards and forwards. But unfortunately, Dawn only does magic during school breaks and end-of-the-world emergencies, and she's a little rusty.

With Buffy pacing at the edge of her vision, Dawn spreads a map of the state park in front of her, setting thick white candles at its four corners. She sprinkles sage in a circle around the map, and then lights the candles. From her bag, she pulls out a black Moleskine notebook which is her watcher's diary. She flips to the page marked with a pink post-it note, and begins to read the incantation written in Willow's handwriting.

She's about halfway through it, stumbling over the awkward transliteration, wondering why Willow couldn't have just written out the original Greek, when she hears something coming, a rustling in the woods.

_Please not the demon_, she thinks, and narrows her eyes so she can see nothing but the words on the page in front of her. A different sound, a Buffy-sound, comes from closer by, and Dawn feels the tension in her shoulders ease. Finishing the incantation, she spreads her arms and takes a deep breath before giving the final invocation, but before she can say it she hears something click.

Dawn has watched _The Sopranos_. She knows that sound is a gun sound.

Dusk is falling all around her, the space under the trees growing dark. The candles glow in front of her, and she can see only the first row of trees and then a thick green gloom. She wants to call out to Buffy, to check if she's okay, but stops herself. Her heart is beating in her throat as she sits there on the ground in the gathering dark. Buffy can handle demons, she knows, but demons do not carry guns. Guns are different. She pictures a red stain spreading across Buffy's shirt, a blank look on her eyes...

There's a thud and a scuffle to her left, and then a man's voice cursing.

"Dawnie?" comes Buffy's voice through the trees, clear and assured. Dawn's heart is beating so hard she presses a hand to her chest to keep it inside.

"I'm here," she says shakily. "I'm okay."

Sam appears at the edge of the clearing, hands clasped on top of his head. Buffy is walking just a pace behind him, holding a gun in two hands, looking for all the world as if she knows how to use it.

"Where's our guy?" Buffy asks briskly, not moving the gun away from Sam.

"Our-- what-- oh, right," Dawn looks back down at the map in front of her and sees nothing, just plain paper and ink and the warm light of the candles. For another moment she's confused, unsure of what she did. Oh right, no invocation.

She keeps her head down, not wanting to see her sister with a gun trained on cute library boy.

Taking a deep breath, Dawn tries to clear her mind. She has no idea if the spell will still work, but she can try. "So mote it be," she says, bringing her hands down toward the map in a sweeping gesture, and feeling the magic tingle in her fingers. Slowly, hesitantly, she opens her eyes and looks down at the map: a small circle of light has appeared in the upper right corner. Buffy leans over her shoulder and as they watch, it moves steadily toward the center, toward them.

Sam shifts on his feet and Buffy waves the gun at him. "Oh no, you don't," she says, in an oddly mom-like tone. "Here, you keep an eye on him," she tells Dawn, thrusting the gun at her. Before Dawn can object, Buffy is gone.

Dawn takes the gun and tries to look like she knows what she's doing with it. She doesn't want to shoot anyone, doesn't know if she could even if she wanted to, and is sure that shows on her face, but Sam follows her directions to sit at the picnic table. "And keep your hands where I can see them," she says. He does.

Holding the gun in both hands the way Buffy did, Dawn stands awkwardly and walks over to the picnic table where Sam is sitting, his palms pressed flat to its surface.

"Thanks again for the book," he says conversationally, as though they're still sitting in the Starbucks and she doesn't have a gun pointed at him. She scowls. "Was that your sister?"

"What are you doing here?" Dawn demands, waving the gun around a little more than is strictly necessary and avoiding his question.

"Same thing as you," he says, looking over toward the candlelit patch of ground. "Or, maybe not exactly the same, but close." He doesn't seem freaked out by the magick, though, which is strange.

"How come every guy I meet is some kind of nutjob demon hunter?" she asks, to him or anyone else who cares to answer.

It is rapidly getting dark in the clearing, but in the candlelight she can see him shrug, and a flash of white teeth. "You're the one with the gun pointed at me."

"This is _your_ gun!" Dawn looks down at it and thinks how much she hates guns. Sam shifts in his seat. "I _will_ shoot you," she tells him, and he gets still again.

What little light is left in the sky fades to black, and they are left in the dark with only a few candles for light. Dawn thinks about bringing them over to the table, but doesn't know how to do it without taking the gun off Sam. And he might not be trying to run away right now, but she can tell he's thinking about it.

He shifts in his seat again, and Dawn tenses. "Don't you want to go help her?" he asks. "I'm really not the bad guy here."

Dawn stifles a laugh. "I'm sure she'll be fine." When was the last time she met someone who didn't know Buffy was a slayer -- The Slayer? It's nice, for a change. She feels herself softening again.

"Look, do you promise not to run away?" she asks, thinking that maybe he'll agree and she can just put the gun down. No such luck, of course.

"Nutjob demon hunters, huh?" She can hear the smile in his voice. He's avoiding the question, but so what? Like he said, not the bad guy here.

"Well, one time there was this love spell, but that was a really long time ago and, like, _totally _different, and..." Dawn glances up, and she can see the flash of white teeth when Sam grins. One side of his face is in shadow, but the other side is lit from the pale glow of the candles. She catches his eye and smiles back, and thinks that maybe this isn't so bad, this getting-left-behind-to-guard-the-prisoner thing.

Maybe if Dawn was paying more attention to her surroundings, or if she'd been looking at the locator spell like she should be -- after all, she's a watcher, she should at least _watch out for things_ -- she might've heard it earlier. At least that's what she tells herself later. As it is, Sam notices the sound first.

Holding up one hand for quiet in a weird military way that kinda reminds Dawn of Riley, he tilts his head to the side to listen. It takes her a second to work out what he's listening for, but once she hears it, she knows exactly what it is. Sam's eyes meet hers in the dark, and a look passes between them: _oh, shit._

It's a rumbling, rustling, cracking sound as something large runs through the woods, breaking branches and sending things flying as it goes. Dawn hears a roar of anger and pain, and pushes herself back from the picnic table as fast as she can, until her back is against a tree trunk, cool and rough through her t-shirt, and why didn't she think to wear something more protective? Her hands are clutching at the cool metal of the gun. She's seen this on TV, it's easy, right? Hands shaking, she aims toward the sound.

Buffy's with the demon, she thinks, she's chasing it. A horrible thought enters her mind, a mental picture of the shot missing and the bullet hitting Buffy instead. She can see blood spreading across Buffy's shirt, can picture it splattering across the clearing, and all of a sudden she can't even breathe.

The demon they've been chasing thunders into the clearing at that moment. It looks like a cross between a bear and an octopus, and Dawn finds herself mentally comparing it to the etching in that stupid book and wondering why they never said how big it is. She's pointing the gun right at it, but she can't feel her fingers and the thing won't fire and there's this weird rushing sound in her ears and Sam is yelling and the thing is coming right at her. There's a swipe of its paw and a shot of pain and the next thing she knows, she's flying through the air and landing very suddenly against a tree trunk.

At least the breathing thing is working again, she thinks, but oh wow it hurts.

The demon is coming toward her again, and there's something warm running down her arm, and Dawn tries to scrabble backwards but it is moving a lot faster than she can. There are pine needles and rocks under her hands and she's backing into trees everywhere she goes. Why are there so many damn trees in the forest anyway? She puts up her arms to fend the thing off, but it bares its teeth and lunges down at her. She can smell its breath, thick and hot like rotting meat on her face. For a split second she thinks, _I live through eight and a half apocalypses and it all ends with a slimy bear. After all that. _Then her arm is in its mouth, big sharp teeth clamped around her elbow.

Its teeth are penetrating the skin now, fire is spreading through her lungs, and she still can't hear anything with the rushing in her ears.

Suddenly, the demon stops -- just stops in place and its jaws loosen. It topples awkwardly to the side and lands with a _crunch_. Dawn moves away as fast as she can, which is really, really slowly, and tries hard to breathe, concentrating on pulling air in and out and in again. Then Sam is there. He has her discarded crossbow in one hand and he's helping her up with the other.

His hand is warm on her skin, gripping a little too tight. He's standing close and leaning down, checking her arm and then tearing off a piece of his shirt and binding up her wound with it. "There," he says in a low voice. "Are you okay?" She can breathe now, and his words are making sense. This is good progress as far as Dawn's concerned.

"Yeah," she says, disoriented. "I think so. What--?" She looks down at the demon and sees a wooden bolt sticking out of the purplish skin of its neck. "Oh." She looks back at Sam, still standing very close. His hand is resting on her shoulder, thumb tracing a little circle almost unconsciously. As soon as she notices it, she can't stop her mind returning to that spot. Around and around and around, a little warm circle of skin on skin.

There are things she wants to ask him, things she wants to say, like _who are you?_ and _so I guess you really do know how to use a crossbow, huh?_ and _seriously, who _are _you?_ Instead, she sticks to the important stuff. "Thanks."

Sam just looks down at her and smiles his crooked smile, dimples marking his cheeks even in the low light. "We should do this again sometime."

"Oh, definitely," she agrees, leaning in towards him.

He slips his other hand under her hair and cups the back of her head before leaning down and closing the gap between them. His lips are soft and dry, and she can taste something sharp like fear in his mouth, but there's a sweetness there too. It's a good kiss, a strong one, and she leans into it before she has time to think, wanting to feel more, be closer. Her breasts press against his chest, sending little zings of pleasure through her, but in the next moment she presses too close, rib cage to rib cage and she's in terrible pain again, and she pulls away, gasping.

"Oh, ow. Ow, ow, ow."

"I'm sorry," Sam apologizes right away. "What's wrong -- are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says. "Just, my ribs -- I think they might be broken."

"So-- not the time?" Sam asks with a smile, straightening up and leaning back away a little. It's only inches, but it feels much farther to Dawn, and she gives in to the urge to pout a little. She is injured, after all.

"Maybe another time," she says, and her eyes drop to the crossbow in his hand. They'll have a lot to talk about, that's for sure.

Of course, Dawn's luck being what it is, Buffy chooses that moment to reappear, closely followed by a smirking guy with dark hair who must be Sam's brother.

He looks around the clearing, taking in Sam, Dawn, the demon and the crossbow bolt sticking out of it, and back to Dawn. A grin spreads across his face and she finds herself blushing at its implications. "Nice work, Sammy."

_Sammy_. Dawn fights back a grin. After all, he never said anything when Buffy called her Dawnie. For which she is grateful.

She only smiles a little when Sam's instant reply is, "Shut up, Dean."

Then it's all, "Oh, Dawnie!" and trips to the hospital and very little time for explanation. It isn't until she's all taped up and the doctors have assured Buffy that their little "hiking accident" hasn't caused any permanent damage that Buffy turns to her and says, "So who were those guys, anyway?"

Dawn can't even shrug, because that hurts right now, and say, "Just some guy I met in the library."

Still, she's not very surprised when she's walking across the quad, halfway through fall semester, and sees Sam waiting for her under a tree, red and gold leaves nearly touching the top of his head. Maybe she'll get an explanation out of him this time.


End file.
